Trilogy: Cheetos: the fifth food group (Medium)

Photo by manish kumar on Unsplash

I’m a walker. That’s what I do for exercise. I used to be a long distance runner and cyclist in my youth, but back pain that began to plague me in my late teens became a chronic condition within a decade, permanently ending these forms of exercise for me by my early thirties. In addition to health benefits, walking provides me both pain relief and management except during my condition’s severest flare-ups. Needless to say, this past summer’s extreme weather conditions significantly curtailed my walking routine, making me anxious and cautious around my back health. Then, just as the fall arrived, and I began to anticipate resuming my therapeutic walking regimen, I was suddenly afflicted with a painful and unpredictable medical condition. The prescribed treatment did not immediately ease the worst of its symptoms, further delaying my walking routine.

Autumn is traditionally when I schedule all my annual medical exams because once the holiday season arrives most of my time is devoted to the vast array of forthcoming activities and events. Dubbed the “Christmas zone”, for me, it encompasses the weeks between Columbus Day and New Year’s Day. Right on schedule, my physician’s office notified me that lab orders had been prepared for me so my lipid panel would be available for review at my upcoming appointment.

Given my months-long lack of exercise, combined with a steady diet of summertime drive-in favorites, which included bacon cheeseburgers, onion rings, French fries, and barbecue plates followed by various ice cream treats, I was feeling a mixture of dread and embarrassment, along with a side of fear about what was floating around in my bloodstream. But, I put that all aside and had my blood work done.

Upon returning home from the lab, I was greeted by my ringing phone, the caller ID indicating it was my doctor’s office (ah, efficiency be damned!). I summoned my most upbeat voice, and feigning ignorance all around, picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”. The nurse on the other end began with: “I’m calling with your test results, and the doctor wanted me to tell you that they are ‘excellent’”! She recited the numbers, which she noted were those of a twenty-something, and conveyed that the doctor said for me to keep doing what I was doing! “Really!” (not exercising and eating bacon cheeseburgers I secretly opined to myself). Heck, as a lifelong teetotaler who has always exercised, and refrained from tobacco and other substances, perhaps I should seriously reconsider my fairly saintly lifestyle. Being bad apparently had unconventional benefits in my case. All I know is that after these last six months, a little good news has gone a long way with me.

However, ahead of theses glad tidings I had already embraced the concept that even if given a full measure, life is short. And considering that our senses distinguish our experiences, why not indulge a bit here and there along the way (after all, the drive-ins are closed now for the season). Further, what purpose is served in practicing strict austerity measures around all things deemed “bad for you”? Longevity? There are no guarantees, only odds and statistics. I certainly won’t be the one who says, “I’m so glad I always skipped the Cheetos”.